Someone Different
by george's firework
Summary: Blaise Zabini spends a morning sitting at the Slytherin table thinking about a certain Auror who he feels a strange draw to. Set in Half-Blood Prince, one-shot.


He had seen her from a distance and his whole world had folded in on itself. His entire being depended on seeing her and he had started to watch the Auror patrols closely, trying to figure out where she'd be at which time.

Seeing her only made his obsession deepen and eventually he started to pull away from his friends, becoming something of an outside as he thought about her day and night. Every conscious thought he had seemed to concern her and his subconscious appeared to notice this as he started to dream about her too.

But it was betrayal.

He was a wealthy pureblood, a Slytherin, still in school. She was a poor half-blood, an Auror, an independent woman.

He wasn't even sure why she held such an appeal to him. Nothing about her was convenient. Her beauty was barely obvious unless you were really looking but he really looked and what he saw held a certain allure. Her clumsiness would annoy most people but to him it was charming. Her loud brash nature was off-putting but he found it fascinating how free she was with her words.

The teachers had noticed something was wrong as his grades began to drop. Homework was never done anymore and he found himself endlessly frustrated as he was given detention after detention; each and every one taking more time away from looking at her, thinking about her.

"Zabini!" A sigh of annoyance left his mouth and he attempted to ignore the voice and its cocky owner.

He closed his eyes, thinking about the time when he had been free. Free to think, free to dream. Free to love anyone without being judged. Before Hogwarts.

Before Hogwarts the only woman in his life had been his mother and she hadn't paid much attention to him; being too caught up in her tumultuous love life and the fame it bought her. He had been home-schooled by a tutor his mother hired - most pureblood families went about educating their smaller children in a similar fashion to give them an early start and prepare them for Hogwarts or another of the magical schools.

Being home-schooled had left him with very few friends and this had affected him so that he seemed unapproachable and intimidating. Usually he kept to himself but recently he only spoke if spoken to by a peer, only answered questions in class if called upon. His natural instinct to show off had apparently gone.

"Hey, Zabini!" This time the sigh was one of defeat as Blaise turned slowly to regard his fellow sixth-year from beneath long eyelashes. Draco Malfoy smirked down at him, white-blonde hair falling into one of his sharp grey eyes. Identical frowns appeared on both boys' faces as they studied each other.

While Malfoy's cocky demeanour was present as always, he seemed different, changed. His pale skin had a grey-ish tinge to it, giving him a sickly pallor. There were dark shadows under his eyes which made Blaise internally question how much sleep he'd been having. His eyes were restless; flickering from side to side anxiously as if he expected someone to jump out and attack him at any moment.

Malfoy's examination of Blaise took a lot less time and he had quickly come to a conclusion. Zabini looked empty. Haunted.

If Blaise had not been sorted into Slytherin, he would never have had anything to do with Draco Malfoy. They weren't friends. They didn't get on. They just helped each other out; the understanding mutual that this did not make them friends in any way. Secretly, he hated Malfoy. He hated his room-mates. He hated Slytherin.

Slytherin had always been looked upon as the bad house, the untrustworthy house, full of criminals and future Death Eaters. Understandable when you looked at the majority of previous Slytherins.

However, occasionally someone different came along. Someone who didn't want to be in Slytherin, didn't want to be associated with back-stabbing criminals, didn't want to belong where they had been put.

He had always hated Slytherin, ever since the day the Sorting Hat had screamed out the name and his tie had turned green and silver.

"Zabini, I'm talking to you." Arrogance filled every word, as usual, and his dark eyes narrowed as he focused on the lighter ones eyeing him. "What's wrong with you lately?"

Just as Malfoy asked that question the doors to the Great Hall entered and she entered, immediately taking all of his focus away from the boy sitting across from him and transferring it to her ethereal beauty. Her hair was short and brown today, falling in waves to just below her chin. Milk was probably darker than her skin and black coffee would be lighter than her eyes. She looked so tortured, so haunted. He wished he could comfort her.

A smug laugh drew his eyes slowly away from her tiny figure and he glared at Malfoy again before looking back, wishing he could hear what she was saying to Dumbledore in that sweet voice of hers. Sure, he had only heard her voice once before but it had been enough to get him addicted.

"So that's what's been wrong with you."

Maybe there was a possibility they could work. The age different wasn't that big now that he thought about it and it's always been well known that opposites attract. Her paleness would compliment his darkness perfectly, her loud nature would be a contrast to his quiet one and her clumsiness would be balanced by his grace. The only thing that stopped him was her blood and house.

A half-blood in Hufflepuff. Had her mother married another wizard she would have been a pureblood, following a long line of purebloods in one of the oldest wizarding families in Britain. But no, her mother had fallen in love with a muggle and married him; later giving birth to a baby girl who would grow up to be Sorted into Hufflepuff and then go on to become one of the best Aurors in the business.

Of course, being in Hufflepuff and having friends in Gryffindor would have given her a prejudice against pretty much anyone associated with Slytherin, as was often the case.

The smug laugh interrupted his thoughts again.

"Still hooked on the blood traitor's daughter then Blaise? I'd've thought you'd given up on her by now, considering the news." His dark head turned slowly and his equally dark eyes regarded Malfoy.

"News?" His voice was quiet and soft, smooth as velvet, but with a dangerous under-tone.

"Yeah. Apparently she's in love with Remus Lupin, remember the wolf?" Grey eyes glittered evilly as his mouth twitched into a smirk. "A traitor falling in love with an outcast. What a beautiful pair."

Dark-skinned fists tightened on the table, earning another laugh as the dark eyes darted back up to the front and then widened.

Nymphadora Tonks was looking directly at him, a look of confused wondering on her face.


End file.
